I Walk The Road Alone
by lord-harker
Summary: Tony Stark has done many things in his life, most of them women, but he has one more thing to do before the core in his chest kills him; face his own mortality. Begins pre-Iron Man 2 continuing on from there so SPOILERS
1. Realisation

**Disclaimer:** Iron Man isn't mine. Never was. Never will be. More's the pity.

**Author's Note:** So this is an idea that's been sitting on my harddrive for a fair few months now. Well actually this is a combination of two ideas that I started on but didnt finish because neither one worked on their own. Thus I have written in order to weave the two together into a story that hopefully works. It's my first foray into the Iron Man fandom so I hope you will be gentle but please let me know if I've screwed up anywhere. Let me know what you think.

Also I reserve the right to bump up the rating.

MOVIE-VERSE SPOILERS! although this chapter is pre-Iron Man 2 it continues into the film and has spoilers from the start.

**Chapter One: Realisation**

There was a storm building.

Black ominous clouds were gathering in the sky, covering the entire expanse of sky while the air was practically sizzling with electricity and the ocean was tossing itself into a frenzy.

Everything was preparing for the thunder yet to come.

He couldn't place it but there was something inherently exciting about the moments before a storm, the air crackled with palpable excitement and anticipation and there was no better place to watch it in the world, than from atop his mansion-home.

The salty expanse spread out off to the horizon, the waves tossing and crashing into each creating high walls of surf towering up to twenty feet above sea level while the wind tried to throw them even higher; but even the highest of these fierce crashing waves barely reached within a few feet of the roof of Tony Stark's Malibu residence where the recently confessed 'Iron Man' stood.

A fair while had passed since he'd announced to the world about what he was doing, about who he really was, and not a moment had gone by when he hadn't been pestered by someone from the press or someone from the government or any person really who just wanted a moment of his obviously valuable time. Barely twenty minutes ago he'd finally managed to bundle Pepper out of his office and get five minutes to himself. One look out the window at the weather and he had Jarvis deflecting any and all requests for him for the rest of the day.

It had been a long time since he'd simply watched the beginnings of a storm.

Absent-mindedly his right hand moved up to his chest and his fingers traced the circle which held the miniature arc reactor through his shirt. There was a soft buzzing passing up his fingers that he always felt running through his chest. It'd been awkward to begin with but he'd gotten used to it; not that he had much choice.

That was the small buzz that told him he was alive.

A laugh escaped from his lips. It was hollow.

Keeping him alive long enough to kill him.

The temperature outside was cold, far too cold, but he needed to take a look; to remind himself.

Carefully he started to unbutton his shirt, opening it half-way before looking down at the small greeny-grey lines that were leading away from the chest piece and starting to cross his chest. A chilled wind blew and he shivered in the cold.

Palladium. It was what the arc reactor ran on; the only substance he was sure would provide the necessary energy to sustain the electromagnet that helped him to keep his life. It was also highly toxic and beginning to seep into his blood, slowly poisoning him.

He hadn't felt any effects of it yet; maybe a slight light-headedness at some points, a little nausea but everyone got those right? And so what if he'd blacked out a few times; it was no big deal. Except that one where he'd woken up on the floor, his head in a small pool of his own blood from a pretty bad cut above his eye. He'd fainted and knocked his head pretty hard as he went down, which of course left him with a major headache for a few days. That had been scary; he'd managed to clean it all up with little fuss and no one had been around, thank God, because no one could know about his condition. Not Pepper; not Rhodey; not anyone. They would _not_ be involved and Tony would handle this himself. That's the way it had to be. Besides, they didn't need to worry unnecessarily.

Jarvis was currently running a series of scenarios so as to find out what would happen when toxicity got a little higher than was healthy, not that the current level was healthy. The computer had been running them for a few days now as Tony wanted to be one hundred per cent sure what might happen and he didn't appreciate the thought of being taken by surprise. Until then, he was drinking a chlorophyll concoction that Jarvis had actually come up with to try and combat the symptoms of the poisoning and it seemed to be working, which almost made up for its disgusting taste. Almost.

Of course in the meanwhile, somewhere in between the media coverage, the running of Stark Industries and helping the world as Iron Man, he'd be down in the workshop researching and testing each and every element he could get his hands on in an attempt to find a viable replacement. So far his tests hadn't worked but he'd only managed to cover ten elements and he wasn't ready to give up hope yet.

The sea had turned a granite grey and was becoming wilder with each passing second while the winds were really beginning to pick up and gust around with vast amounts of force. Several times Tony was pushed backwards by a forceful wall of wind and he didn't put up too much of a fight; it was all part of the experience.

His chest became wracked with shivers from the increasing drop in the temperature and he started to wish he'd buttoned his shirt up but it was too late now; this was the storm in its element.

Rain started to drop from the sky, huge great drops which seemed to crash into to concrete of the roof and batter the raging ocean with deafening smacks. It started slow but each time Tony was splatted with the rain, the force of it was shocking, thunking onto his skin and near knocking the breath out of him.

And as the pace began to pick up and the wind increased and the waves roared past and his suit soaked through, Tony Stark took two steps forward and spread his arms wide to his side. It was difficult to restrain the whooping cry that was building up within his chest as the storm continued to rage but he managed it, settling instead on the widest smile that no one would ever see.

There was something so liberating about being at the mercy of a storm.

Tony left the roof after ten minutes, retreating to the warmth, familiarity and comfort of indoors. In the living area he turned to gaze out through the vast windows that dominated the entire side of the room and stare in wonder at the ongoing storm.

"I trust you enjoyed that, sir." Shaking his head before he got the urge to go out there again, he turned from the window.

"Immensely." He was soaked through with hair plastered to his head while his clothes were completely drenched and felt like a ton. Silently cursing as he looked around, Tony remembered how Pepper had insisted that towels were to remain in the bathroom or gym. Annoying and seemingly impractical as it was, it was his own fault for not ensuring the bedroom door was locked when Pepper was in the house. "JARVIS, are those-"

"Diagnostics are still running, sir."

Tony nodded in approval. "Good man."

Glancing down at his feet he noticed that he was dripping all over the floor, all the water slowly rolling off him and settling deep into the carpet, turning it a murky grey colour. When Pepper saw this she'd go mad; rant on and on about being careful and responsible and not destroying the fixtures but he honestly didn't care. Fixing the carpet would be easy enough, hell replacing it might be better; after all it was only money.

Pins and needles were slowly beginning to run up and down his body as his muscles contracted and relaxed alternately in an attempt to reactivate neurones and waken up the numbed tissue. Combined with the higher temperature, it was no surprise that he was starting to sweat. It mixed on his forehead with the rain that was still clinging onto him but he barely noticed; he just knew he was hot.

_I need a shower._

* * *

><p>Washed, dried, in less formal attire and sitting comfortably on his spinning chair, Tony looked up at the screens that were floating before him. Each one was telling him something about his current condition and it <em>wasn't<em> happy reading. Heart rate, blood pressure, brain activity, sleeping patterns, eating habits, periods of black outs, footage of black outs; all of it was here and all of it was telling him the same thing.

-You're dying, Tony-

And yet, none of it was giving him a solution.

"Sir."

"Jarvis." he pasted on a smile; he often forgot the computer was watching. "Good news?"

"I have the results of those scenarios you asked me to run."

Tony rubbed his chin rather fiercely with his hand leaving both of them very sore but he barely noticed, otherwise preoccupied. "So _not_ good news…"

"According to my results, if the palladium poisoning continues at its current rate your condition will worsen exponentially."

"I presume the ultimate ending is death?"

"Unfortunately, sir."

He bit his bottom lip, tasting the slightly coppery tang left from where he was constantly chewing it to shreds. _Definitely not good news._

"So…that's pretty big." He span around on the chair, desperate not to dwell on the information at hand. "What about the smaller things? The black outs, the nausea?"

"Early indications suggest that they would increase along with your blood toxicity level. Ultimately resulting in a form of co-"

"Please, let me stop you there." He took a deep breath and struggled to let it out without breaking down. "How…er…" he hesitated, unwilling to actually admit his situation. "How long…?"

"Optimistic calculations give you a maximum life expectancy of eighteen weeks."

He paused, taking a breath. "That long, huh?" The stress in his voice cracked through. This was harder than he thought.

"I'm sorry, sir."

…

Through the years Tony had had his fair share of bad news.

'**You're being sued for sexual harassment in the workplace. Again!'**

Pfft!

'**This crackpot idea of yours just lost your company six **_**billion **_**dollars!'**

Fine.

'**Your life-long mentor paid a bunch of insurgents to have you killed in Afghanistan.'**

…Whatever.

'**You're dying and it's going to be painful and is going to happen over a long-drawn out period and you will be unable to hide it from anyone.'**

…

Yep…

That might just be enough to trigger an emotional shut down.

"Sir?"

Bed-ridden. He could see it now; confined to bed because he's incapable of standing, walking or even taking a piss without assistance. What would be the point of even getting up in the morning? Why bother to wake up at all?

"Sir?"

Options. There had to be options. Something had to be out there that could help him; anything. At the very least there had to be some way to keep him going long enough to let him die with dignity.

"Mr. Stark?"

What about Pepper? And Rhodey? And the company? What about his suits and the Iron Man legacy? There was so much to do and so little time to do it in.

"Of course, these calculations don't take into account your consumption of the chlorophyll drink to combat the symptoms."

Tony's mind snapped back to the present. "Hmm?"

"Although the formula won't keep you from dying, sir, it could increase your life expectancy while simultaneously preventing a large proportion of the symptoms from developing much further than they are now."

"Alright." He opened one of the drawers in his desk and picked out the baseball he kept in there. It was silly and Pepper had commented to him on more than one occasion on the childish nature of it but Tony usually ignored her, like normal. He liked to keep his hands busy so if he wasn't designing, building or tinkering he'd be tossing the ball from hand to hand or performing small tricks like tossing it up and catching it on the back of his fingers. It helped to soothe his mind; focus it somewhat. "So eighteen weeks…minus a week or two for possibility of drink consumption falling behind symptom development… And a few more in case the life expectancy is a bit _too _optimistic… So that leaves me with…what?" he raised an eyebrow as he quickly ran through the math in his head. "Twelve weeks? Fourteen weeks? Fourteen weeks before I become a bumbling idiot."

"Unless you are able to find a suitable substitute for palladium, sir."

_And we both know how likely that is._

Tony didn't say anything; he just nodded as he slowly swivelled round to look across the screens before him. "Fourteen weeks…"

It didn't seem that long to be honest. He wouldn't say no to a bit longer but it was just over three months; long enough to sort things out, see that everything would end up where it needed to be, see that the relevant people would be made aware of the situation.

Tony Stark had been called a lot of things, and one of those is 'disconnected' in reference to both his own feelings and other human beings. Unfortunately it was one of those things about him that was true so telling other people about this was a little way down the line yet. Besides, there was always that slim possibility that he might find the alternative power source before D-Day and he was fairly sure Pepper would skin him alive if she was made to get all upset for nothing. And then there was always the perk of outright denial.

Tony took a deep breath as he cast his eye over the screens displaying his ill health once more.

There was still a chance this could work.


	2. A Bad Idea

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine except for the interpretation, everything else isn't m'kay?

**A/N:** This has been a while coming but you can all thank my recent insomnia for anything of a decent calibre being publishable. Hopefully the next update should be soon as I actually know where I'm going with it next. Also, I've bumped up the rating due to swearing. What can I say? I've got a potty mouth. Ain't that right, Sammy? Anyway, you know what to do. read and hopefully enjoy. laters x

**Chapter Two: A Bad Idea**

Justin Hammer.

Infuriating; nauseating, stuck so far up the government's ass that it's remarkable he had enough oxygen to survive up there. Worst of all, he was stood next to Tony, attempting to show off; wafting his interview with Vanity Fair around in a flimsy attempt to get some attention; grinning like an idiot at the cameras; trying to pretend they were the best of buds.

I mean, it may be the pot calling the kettle black but at least Tony had that warming lovability that allowed him to get away with that kind of crap. Hammer had none of that, he was quite clearly visible for what he was. A cold, bland government lacky with no imagination. I mean he was outright copying Tony's Iron Man tech, trying to one up the billionaire. This guy really had nothing going for him.

Still whatever you said, however you put it, Justin Hammer was a man with an unpalatable personality. Right now he was the little weedy kid in the playground who always tries to be your friend but copies everything about you at the same time.

And of course, this vile man was the person Pepper had left him with, probably as some form of punishment over the whole Natalie situation…and something else that he most likely forgot about. It was probably the worst thing short of physical violence she could have done to him; left him alone with Justin Hammer.

Well not entirely alone, Miss Christine Everhart was there for an interview with the jackass. The journalist who was one of Tony's prior conquests, whom he had not seen since getting her under the sheets…

Yep.

Pepper hated him.

Hammer, for some unfathomable reason, found the need to place his hand right on this particularly tender part of Tony's neck. It was almost as if he knew the guy was itching to escape him. Incapable of literally running after his former assistant and abandoning this asinine man, Tony could only slap on a fake smile as Hammer steered him to face the cameras that had sidled up behind Christine.

As the first flash went off, partially blinding him, Tony instinctively reached into his pocket for his sunglasses. Unfortunately the damage had already been done by the time they were on and his previously dormant and mildly irritating headache had spiked into a rather sharp painful and present one. It matched the heaviness that was gently weighing down on his chest, although that pain was currently less so than his throbbing head.

With half the effort he could be bothered to muster he managed to shrug the hand from the back of his neck and manage to restrain himself from smacking the guy down, keeping it to a semi-friendly pat on the back. Grateful to have his neck free, and resisting the urge to rub at it for fear of losing face he noticed Christine trying to include him in Hammer's interview.

Not that he didn't like being the centre of attention, lord knows he loved that, but his headache and Hammer's smile and basic presence within the local vicinity was making him sweat. At least he hoped that was why he was sweating so much.

"Since he got his contract revoked…when you were attempting to…"

He had to get away from them, from everyone. Ideally, he needed to get in touch with Jarvis and find out why the hell he fell so shitty when the chlorophyll ought to be keeping him on game.

But of course, he couldn't be allowed that. That would just be too easy

He made his way over to a nearby table to sit down, even if only momentarily, still continuing the conversation with the journalist and the jackass.

He watched Hammer squirm under his questions comfortable in the knowledge he was giving the guy the same treatment he would get in his position. He wasn't handling it too well but if we're honest with ourselves, Hammer needed being taken down a peg.

Tony could have cried when Natalie just seemed to appear at his side. Any reason to get out of there, even an angry rant from Pepper, anything. Of course, he wasn't allowed to seem too eager and moving too fast was quickly becoming a bit of a no-no with the headache being fuelled by all the chattering people that were gathered to have a good time.

As he left he couldn't help but throw one final glance back and smiled internally as he watched Justin Hammer try to push the woman's dictaphone away.

God, he hated Justin Hammer.

* * *

><p>If there was one place you could expect to be relatively empty wherever you went, it would most likely be a bathroom. It's one of those things people, especially guys, never really dwell on.<p>

The air in this particular bathroom was quite clear and fresh compared to the close atmosphere out in the bar. Less claustrophobic. More importantly he could hear himself think, although he wasn't entirely sure that it was a good thing.

Casting a quick glance around to make sure no one was about Tony took out the small device from his pocket and held it in his hands. It felt warm, almost like he'd only just used it and that did nothing reassure his troubled mind.

Pausing, he thought about whether he wanted to know his palladium levels… He knew they'd be higher, he knew there was nothing he could do… but if there had been a recent acceleration of his condition he'd need to know right…?

He'd need to know where he stood with what he'd yet to get done. I mean, not everything was ready yet.

_He_ wasn't ready yet.

Breathing deep, he held the small device firmly in his hand as he pressed his finger against the small needle and held it in place just to be sure he got as accurate a reading as possible. Once satisfied he'd had it there long enough he pulled his finger away and shook it to alleviate the sting.

Placing his finger in his mouth to clear any excess blood, Tony glanced down at the small flashing display.

BLOOD TOXICITY: 53%

Almost double what it had been after the expo. No wonder he felt like crap.

When he got home he'd have to increase the amount of the chlorophyll he drank as much as he could. Again. Perhaps take to drinking it at every moment he wasn't eating or talking. Of course that would only make him feel better, the problem itself would still be there.

Leaning forward he placed his arms either side of the sink, lowering his head.

This was going too quickly. Everything; the symptoms, the toxicity, the company. He could almost feel it all slipping out of his grasp. It was like he had no control and it was driving him insane.

Tony Stark was not a man accustomed to losing control, especially within his whole life.

Taking a quick breath, Tony looked into the mirror, looking right into his reflection's eyes. There had to be some way to regain the reins to his currently-bordering-on-hellish existence.

"Got any other bad ideas?"

* * *

><p>This was a bad idea.<p>

This was worse than a bad idea, it was a stupid idea; a stupid, life-threatening idea that he would very soon live to regret, but he didn't care. He was taking control.

There was a lot of people, a lot of noise and his headache was quietly raging behind his brown sunglasses as he strided down towards the racetrack. Journalists and cameras were fighting off beautiful women after an autograph, desperate to get an explanation for the racing leathers he was wearing, but if there was one thing Tony had learnt during his time at the top it was that timing was absolutely everything.

Turning around he saw the small trail of people that was slowly gathering behind him and couldn't help but smile. Feeling crap made no difference to the warming glow that came from being the centre of attention. It was where he belonged.

From the racetrack he could see even more cameras, crazy fans and the right opportunity for announcing his plans. Obviously he told the crew first, otherwise he'd be writing a check he couldn't cash and that was not a position he cared to place himself in…again.

"Well, what's the use of having and owning a racecar… if you don't drive it?"

Talking clearly and slowly was partially for the interpreter, partially so he didn't start panicking and partially because it was pretty much impossible that Pepper wasn't watching this right now.

As he climbed into the driving seat and pulled the helmet over his head there was only one thought going through his head.

'If I survive this, Pepper is gonna be pissed.'


End file.
